


intangible and unquantifiable

by Pirateofantiva



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Angst, Claustrophobia, F/F, Happy Ending, Mild Hurt/Comfort, also holtz is autisitc, autistic!Holtzmann, bc paul said so and i readily agree, but no physical abuse, i come to u in the great famine of holtzmann fic, im such a slut for angst. god, light mentions of child abuse, nothing graphic or anything, okay but it's like. mild angst, the angst bus hit me on my way out of the theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 10:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7529350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pirateofantiva/pseuds/Pirateofantiva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holtzmann’s energy felt less like a tornado and more like precise strikes of lightning, as if she was trying to reassure Erin that she was fine, that nothing had happened, when in fact, it had, and she was, in fact, not fine. And yet, she kept right on with her whirling, with her category five winds and bolts of energy; building, breaking, and occasionally exploding, much to Patty’s chagrin. But Erin knew that something had changed. But she let it go, in the pursuit of peace and calm, or at least as close as you could get when Holtzmann was involved.</p>
<p>(or: holtzmann and erin get locked in a closet together. some truths are revealed. holtzmann isn't a big fan. erin tries not to realize just how unironic it is.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a cliche, but not the fun kind

**Author's Note:**

> long time reader, first time writer. why can the title be up to 230 characters? that seems excessive. also, i have like 1/5 of the second chapter written, i'm just posting this alone bc there's barely any fic out there. 
> 
> p.s. just think, if every lesbian in america bows down at the altar of kate mckinnon, we could churn out a lot of fic. just sayin. pls guys. post ur holtzbert (think that's what it's called) fic. even if u hate it. i'll take an au where they're both coffee cups or raccoons or just anything at this point.
> 
> edit 9/28/16: god DAMN y'all came through.

Erin was getting really tired of New York basements. It was the sixth one the team had been in that month alone, and the old mildew smell mixed with rotting cheese was starting to get old. Even more tiring, however, was that she couldn't stop staring at Holtzmann. Something about the woman fascinated her. It wasn't just that cocky, swaggery attitude, or the intense brilliance and the staggering ingenuity; no, it was something deeper, just below the surface, a layer of Holtzmann that Erin just couldn't peel back fast enough. The reality was that Erin knew very little about her beyond the fact the she joined Abby at the institute after 'a small event involving large explosions.' 

Suddenly, Erin flinched as she was torn from her thoughts by Holtzmann, who had stopped mere inches in front of her. 

"Stop staring at my ass and hurry up, Gilbert." Holtzmann smirked, pushing down her glasses so that she could peer over them. 

"I wasn't- Jesus. Let's just go." Technically, she wasn't, but if she had been, it wouldn't be the first time. God forbid Holtzmann ever turned around and discovered she was right. "Let's just- Just keep your eyes open, Holtzmann." 

Holtzmann gave a little leer and a "yes ma'am" with a little too much seduction in her tone and whipped around. Erin tried not to roll her eyes, because honestly, who did Holtzmann think she was? The object of Erin's infatuation? Jesus Christ. 

They continued through the dusty basement, Erin becoming increasingly exhausted as she watched Holtzmann swagger through, gun held limply at her side without a care in the world. Again, Erin found herself wondering who the scientist really was underneath that shiny veneer. Suddenly, Holtzmann stopped, tilting her head to the side like she was listening intently for something, her neck craned awkwardly. “Hear that? Sounds like a little specter friend,” she said, grinning wolfishly. Mere seconds after she finished speaking, something green and bright flashed through the hall, and acting on instinct, Erin grabbed Holtzmann by the collar and quickly dragged them backwards into a closet. The ghost cackled as it flew by, and Erin heard the sound of a lock turn sharply. 

“Fuck. You’re kidding me. I think it just locked us in here. Goddamnit. Why does this shit always happen to us?” Erin sighed while pounding on the door, before realizing that Holtzmann had gone completely silent. “What, no closet jokes?” she joked lightly, then frowned when Holtz continued to say nothing. Erin turned around, and was shocked to see Holtzmann flat against the wall a few inches behind her, looking completely terrified. There was a crazed look in her eye, one different from the usual spark or crazed genius. “Holtz, are you alright? Jesus, what’s wrong? You look like you just saw- well.” Erin stopped abruptly and moved a bit closer, causing Holtzmann to press up even harder against the wall with the little space she had left. 

“No, no. Don’t. Stay there. Don’t. No. Stay back.” Holtzmann was holding her hand out, speaking frantically, head quickly whipping back and forth, still with that look in her eye. “Please.” She sounded panicked and afraid, and Erin suddenly felt extremely anxious, because Holtzmann usually displayed the emotional range of a very excited teaspoon. 

“Holtzmann, what’s wrong? I want to help you. What is it?” Erin asked softly, gently, knowing Holtzmann had the potential to act erratically when she was forced to confront something. Holtzmann just shook her head again, and kept her hand outstretched, keeping Erin away. Her hand was shaking near violently, Erin noticed, and sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead. Erin grew more concerned as she realized how dire the situation was for Holtzmann to be displaying such a strong physical reaction. Holtz gave a low hum, an uncomfortable, guttural sound, and shook her head, distressed.

“Is it the spa-.” Erin was cut off abruptly as the power shut off and the small lightbulb gave a pop above their heads, flickering out and enveloping them in darkness. A small glow of light came off a dim emergency bulb fixed high on the wall. Holtzmann quickly snatched her hands back to her body and clamped them tightly over her ears. She scrunched her eyes shut tightly, and pressed against the wall harder, trying to minimalize herself. 

Erin was well and truly scared now as Holtzmann retreated into herself. She had no idea what to do. She had never seen Holtz react like this to anything, not even the potential apocalypse a year prior. She moved a bit closer, but Holtzmann failed to notice, her eyes now scrunched tightly against the darkness. She was mumbling something quietly and frantically to herself, not quite loud enough for Erin to make out. 

She continued to cross the tiny bit of space between them, moving slowly, trying not to startle Holtzmann. She tentatively stretched out her hand, gently touching Holtzmann’s elebow, and the other woman flinched violently away, pulling into herself more. Erin quickly rose her hands away and backed up, trying to give Holtzmann back her space. 

“I’m sorry. Holtz? I won’t do it again. Sorry. Holtzmann? Can you hear me?” Erin tried not to sound on edge, but could tell she failed when her voice trembled slightly. “You’re okay, Holtz. I’m not going to touch you. I’ll give you some more room, okay? You’re fine.” She pressed herself up against the opposite wall and breathed out slowly, trying to calm herself. She was fine. Holtz was fine. Her heart ached for the other woman, for her clear distress. 

Ten minutes passed before Holtzmann calmed down, though it was only marginally. She slowly removed her hands from her head, and opened her eyes, which stayed lowered to the floor. She was still muttering slightly, but at least now Erin could talk to her. Erin paused, waiting for Holtzmann to collect herself before saying anything. A solid minute passed before Holtzmann suddenly took a few tiny steps forward to the door, and Erin shuffled to the side to give her more space. 

“Okay, alright, this isn’t complicated, an eighty-year-old woman could do this, even Kevin could unlock this and he can’t find his way out of a paper bag, okay-.” Holtzmann muttered under her breath, now loud enough for Erin to hear, and lowered herself in front of the lock. She pulled out a few pins and a screwdriver from her pack, inserting both into the lock. 

“Holtz, what are you doing?” Erin asked gently, trying to look, but afraid to get too close to Holtzmann in case she spooked her. “Are you picking the lock?” 

“Hmmm, yes, yes I am, but I just can’t- hmm- seem to-.” Holtzmann kept her interrupting herself with low, nervous, hums. “God damnit. Shit. Agh!” She let out a frustrated bark at her lack of progress. 

“Holtz, your hands are shaking. Can I help?” Erin started to move a little closer now, steady and slow, trying not to startle the other woman. “Please let me help.” 

Holtzmann let out a pained sigh, but shuffled over slightly to try and give Erin a little room in the cramped space. She visibly tensed when Erin lowered herself down next to her, effectively eliminating whatever wiggle room was left. Holtzmann seemed to be close to panicking again, and Erin desperately tried to do damage control. 

“Holtz, it’s okay, we’re going to get out of here. You need to let me help you, okay? It’ll be okay.” Erin let out a sigh of relief when Holtzmann turned to look at her. “Okay? Can I help you?” Holtzmann continued to stare, before giving a jerky little nod. “Okay, good. Let’s do this.”

Holtzmann took a shaky breath before speaking. “I just need- I need you to put your hands on mine to keep them steady.” Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, and she was visibly trying to swallow down her nerves. Erin gave her a light nod, before gently putting her hands atop Holtzmann’s. 

“Is this okay?” Erin asked, trying to keep the pressure light. Holtzmann’s hands twitched, and Erin could feel the undercurrent of tension in them, the shaking, but Holtzmann gave another jerky nod nonetheless. 

“I’m going to move to the left a little, stay with me, okay-.” Holtzmann gave Erin small commands, and the other woman struggled to keep up with the scientist’s near erratic movements. “Almost there, just a little more-.” Suddenly, the door swung open, and Holtzmann gave a shaky yell, jumping up and stumbling out the door. Erin nearly fell backwards with the movement, before slowly rising and following Holtzmann through the door. Holtzmann stood quietly in the middle of hall, taking deep breaths slowly, her chest rising and following with each one. Erin watched her, silently, watched the woman slowly stitch herself back together. Erin, always the scientist, was trying to process what had happened. Suddenly, she began to see a pattern that she had missed earlier, and she had to stop herself from quite literally smacking herself on the head. Holtzmann always preferred driving the hearse, never sitting in the back; she had literally an entire, open floor, of the firehouse to work; and she let everyone else go into the small, dark spaces during ghostbusting, claiming she had sensitive machinery. She was claustrophobic. But Erin had seen her work on cramped machinery before, nestled under small nuclear reactors that definitely violated at least three hundred regulations. She had seen her sleep under tables, curled up, unaware. So it must be only room-like spaces, dark ones, or-. Erin’s mind was racing, trying to make sense of Holtzmann, something she had been doing far too often lately. 

Suddenly, the hall lit up with light, and Erin whipped her head around, trying to follow the action, to see Holtzmann aiming her proton gun at the ghost they had seen earlier. Erin quickly snatched the trap off the bottom of her pack, and tossed it to the ground, stomping on the peddle as soon as it made contact. The ghost screeched as it was sucked down into the trap, which clanged loudly as its metal jowls snapped shut. Holtzmann and Erin panted quietly, both staring down at the trap, and Erin knelt down, picked it up, and clicked it back onto her pack. 

“You okay, Holtz?” 

“Yes, I’m- Yes. We should get, I want to run some tests, and- hmm, yes-.” Holtzmann was avoiding eye contact completely, nervously playing with the strap of her goggles, hands twitching. 

“Alright, Holtz. Sounds good.” Erin gave her a small smile, trying to be reassuring without condescending, and Holtzmann seemed to expand and relax slightly, her shoulders loosening a little. They quietly walked back to the hearse, meeting Abby and Patty along the way, both of whom tried to ask what had happened before realizing the tense silence, which they quickly fell into as well. Abby shot a questioning look towards Erin, but Erin just shrugged, still unsure of what exactly had happened herself. Holtzmann began rambling on about some sort of technical aspect of the traps, about switching the alloy of the outer casing, and Erin allowed herself to relax into the nonsensical musings, still going over the incident in her head. There was even more to Holtzmann than she previously thought, she decided, and sighed as she realized that there was no way her curiosity was ever going to be sated. Holtzmann fascinated her, and she was slowly beginning to understand that this was becoming more than a little bit permanent.


	2. into the vortex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now, let's Get Into It (TM)

Things had been… Well, a little awkward honestly. Holtzmann had continued to be an absolute whirlwind on the second floor, but it was always reigned in when Erin showed up, a little restrained, more withheld. Holtzmann’s energy felt less like a tornado and more like precise strikes of lightning, as if she was trying to reassure Erin that she was fine, that nothing had happened, when in fact, it had, and she was, in fact, not fine. And yet, she kept right on with her whirling, with her category five winds and bolts of energy, building, breaking, and occasionally exploding, much to Patty’s chagrin. But Erin knew that something had changed. She could feel it in the air between them, when the dances were more goofy than sexy, when Holtzmann would flip on her goggles to obscure her eyes, even though she wasn’t soldering anything. But Erin let it go, in the pursuit of peace and calm, or at least as close as you could get to them when Holtzmann was involved. 

However, that changed too. 

About five days after what Erin had dubbed ‘The Incident,’ the Ghostbusters were contacted about a haunting in an old apartment building. Apparently, a murderer had once lived in the penthouse suite, and was now creeping the living hell out of the other tenets. They figured that the ghost had somehow missed last year’s check-in back to hell, and had escaped during the chaos. It was a priority call because of the potential high benevolence of the specter, so they all geared up and were on the road in the first twenty minutes after the call. Holtzmann was driving, as per usual, the rest of the team holding on for dear life as they rocketed over curbs and in between tight lanes of traffic. 

Erin observed Holtzmann at the wheel, her loose and easy grip, that carefree expression, and the absolute manic look in her eye as they cut across two lanes of traffic to make an abrupt right turn. Erin watched as Holtz gave that wild grin, the one that made Erin melt, but only a little, if anyone ever asked. Her energy was as tangled and chaotic as ever, and Erin, as per usual, was caught on the fringes, sucked in, never struggling, knowing that resistance in the face of a powerful force was meaningless. And that’s exactly what it felt like, Erin thought while watching Holtzmann; being drawn into an irresistible vortex. She wished she could look away, just once, when Holtzmann got too blinding, but she figured this is what it must be like to watch an atomic bomb go off. You can’t tear your eyes away from the raw destruction, the vast power and energy of such a cataclysmic event, you simply stand there, miles, lifetimes, away from ever understanding how such a thing is even possible. Erin is a scientist, she does understand how it works, but now she knows why so many described its detonation as unfathomable. How can a singular force create such a powerful and irreversible shift, such a fundamental change? 

As they pulled up to the building, Erin gracefully accepted the fact that maybe she’ll never know, that maybe when the bomb does go off, she should just hunker down like everyone else, but then Holtzmann turned around with that vortex of a smile and energy in her eyes, and Erin knew, deep down, that she can never, ever, look away. Holtzmann turned away, releasing the hatch on the hearse, freeing the proton packs from confinement. She quickly strapped hers on, before snatching up Erin’s and handing it to her in one jerky movement.

“Dr.Gilbert.” Holtzmann’s eyes were still lowered, but there was something more gentle in the way she was interacting with Erin. If Erin didn’t know Holtz better, she would have pegged it as shyness. 

“Thanks, Holtz.” Erin strapped the pack on and smiled softly at her, before being interrupted by Abby. 

“Okay, so the owner said that there have been sightings in the penthouse and the basement. Due to its priority, I think we should split up, just in case. We can’t risk it getting away. Patty, you and I will take the basement. Erin, Holtzmann, you guys take the penthouse. That sound good?” She locked eyes with Erin, like she knew somehow, and Erin gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Holtzmann, in lieu of a response, powered up her proton gun and gave Abby a deranged grin. “Okay. Good luck, guys.” Abby shot one more glance in Erin’s direction before heading inside. 

“Alright, Holtz, you ready?” Erin glanced over to Holtzmann, who had her gun resting across her shoulders, something Erin absolutely hated, because it made that tight feeling in her gut just a little worse. 

“Oh yeah. I was born ready. Absolutely.” Holtzmann gave her a wide grin, her voice drawling just a little, and Erin wanted to straight up smack her, because god damn. Instead, she followed Holtzmann inside, trying not to stare too much at her confident swagger, which Erin was secretly pleased to see had returned, despite her presence. 

They approached the elevator, and Erin frowned as she realized the apartment was eighteen floors up. Way too high to hike up with giant proton packs on their backs. Holtzmann seemed to realize this too, because she clucked her tongue and hit the call button on the panel. They waited in silence for the elevator, and as the doors slowly opened, Erin watched Holtzmann carefully, closely, looking for any sign of unease. Holtzmann lumbered into the elevator, holding the door back for Erin, who slipped quickly inside. She quickly smacked the button for floor 18, and rested back into the corner next to the panel. She looked a little nervous, Erin noted, but not too bad. 

“Holtz, you okay?” Erin asked, trying to sound casual, but knowing it probably came off a little too concerned for Holtzmann’s liking. Instead of answering, however, Holtzmann took a deep breath and started spewing facts about elevators. Erin decided to stay silent, content to just sit back and listen to Holtzmann soothe herself. About thirty seconds later, just as Holtzmann was beginning to describe what metals the cables were made of in the first years of their invention, the doors opened to the penthouse suite. Immediately, a chill fell over the both of them, and eeriness settled deep into their bones. Holtzmann cut herself off instantly, and turned to look at Erin, who nodded her acknowledgement. 

They both walked slowly into the room, proton guns at the ready, eyes scanning each corner of the suite. Erin frowned as she heard what she thought was a creak, and looked over in Holtzmann’s direction, a few feet to her left. 

“Holtz, did you hear s-.” Erin was cut off as something screeched, hurtling towards her direction. 

“Shit, Erin, get down!” Erin heard Holtzmann yell, but she knew, she knew she wouldn’t make it, shit-. Something came barreling on to her, the opposite direction of the ghost, and she fell to the ground with a thud as it flew past. She quickly twisted around to see what had fallen on top of her, and came face to face with Holtzmann’s worried features. 

“Are you okay?” Holtzmann asked, gentle, concerned, and Erin felt something inside her melt. Just as she was about to respond, she saw a flash of blue, and Holtzmann went hurtling to the side, rolling across the hardwood floor. 

“Holy shit! Holtzmann!” Erin quickly scrambled up, and ran towards Holtzmann’s direction, who had slowly started to rise. Erin stopped abruptly when she noticed something odd in her posture, in the way that her shoulders rolled as she picked herself up off the floor, and she knew immediately that something was wrong. “Holtz? Hey, you okay? Talk to me.” Erin watched intensely as Holtzmann drew herself up to her full height, and Erin’s heart sank as Holtzmann’s head finally tilted upwards, and their eyes met. There was something dark and unrecognizable them, something deep and horrible. Erin let out a shaky breath as Holtzmann smiled eerily, more of a slash across her face, a manic sign of terror than an actual grin. 

“Holtzmann? That’s an odd name, is it not? Why no first name, I wonder. Very peculiar.” Holtzmann spoke slowly, calculated, each word falling into the space between them with a tight precision, and Erin felt each one crawl along her body. “Her first name is… hmm, Jillian. But she doesn’t like that, does she? No. Certainly not. Only people she hated ever called her that.” Her hands were clasped tightly behind her back, and she moved her neck in small circles as she rolled her shoulders. “This one is interesting, for sure. She’s quite loud in here, putting up quite a fight. Very intriguing mind.” Holtzmann tapped her index finger to her skull and Erin shivered at the movement. 

“Time to get out of her. This won’t end well for you.” Erin threatened, hands tightening around the proton gun. Holtzmann laughed, slowly grabbed the side arm from the side of the pack, and pointed it right at her own head. 

“Tsk tsk. Shoot, and so will I. Either way, she’ll probably die. She’s saying something about how the beam is… deadly?” Holtzmann laughed as Erin lowered her gun, dropping it so that it dangled uselessly at her side. “That’s better. Now, let’s see what’s up here. Hmmm… very interesting. You’re on her mind, Dr.Gilbert, you know that? Yes, she’s been thinking about you.” As Holtzmann spoke, Erin was trying to discreetly press the distress button on the side of the pack, hoping that Abby and Patty would make an educated guess as to what happened, considering that Holtzmann’s pack hadn’t also sent out a signal. 

“Stop. Please. Just let her go.” Holtzmann laughed at this, her grip still tight on the proton pistol. 

“No, no. I don’t think so. I quite like it in here. Now, back to you. Little Jillian here seems to think rather highly of you… oh, what’s this? Interesting. What happened on your last call?” Erin felt anxiety spike in her heart. Whatever Holtzmann was about to say, Erin knew she wasn’t supposed to hear it. “Whatever it was, Jillian doesn’t want me to see it. She’s resisting quite strongly. Ah. There we go. Oh, I see.” Holtzmann suddenly clutched her forehead with her other hand, doubling over slightly, before straightening back up, wincing. “My, my. She really is quite the fighter, isn’t she? No matter. I can see it all, now. Ah, you’re so sweet, Dr.Gilbert. She noticed how much you cared. It made her feel safer. How nice.” Erin felt her chest tightened, both at the information and the situation. Holtzmann knew. She had to. 

“She really is quite afraid of small, dark rooms. But not all dark spaces, that’s interesting. Why is that, Jillian, hmm? Oh. I see. Well, that’s quite sad.” Holtzmann chuckled, and Erin panicked, knowing that Holtzmann didn’t want this, didn’t want her to know. 

“No. Don’t do this.” 

“Too late.” Holtzmann’s voice was twisted, deeper, and it echoed slightly through the room. “Mom and Dad weren’t very nice, did you know that? Poor Jillian was trying to create something, something beautiful, functioning, complex, something that would make them appreciate her, connect with her. But they didn’t understand. No one understood. They didn’t know why she kept building, tinkering, constructing, why nothing could stop her. Eventually, they just put her somewhere isolated, lonely, so that she simply had to cease her work. There’s no tools in a closet is there? No. You can’t do anything in a dark, cramped space like that. It worked, at least. Every time, it made her stop.” 

Erin couldn’t breathe. Her lungs were restricted, tight, deep in her chest. Her heart felt strained and uneven. This couldn’t be happening. Holtzmann. Sweet, wild, intelligent, Holtzmann. And Erin thinks about what Holtzmann said about love, and family, and she wants to sob, to fight, to do something destructive. She thinks about Holtzmanm listening to Patty with rapt attention as she talks about the sprawling tunnels beneath New York; or when Holtzmann sidles up to Abby after a frustrating day, and slides her a tall container of warm, perfect, wonton soup, accompanied with a small side hug; she thinks about Holtzmann watching her scribble out equations on the giant blackboard on the first floor, and how she always hands her markers, or erasers, and simply observes as Erin comes closer and closer to a breakthrough; and how Holtzmann winked at Erin when she had told her the ghost girl story, about how she had so easily accepted her, understood her need for validation. Erin thinks about Holtzmann, and she wants to burn something, set it ablaze, watch it turn to ashes in front of her very eyes. She wants Holtzmann to feel wanted, loved, adored, and she thinks that maybe she finally understands the engineer. 

Holtzmann takes a deep breath, pistol still pointing directly at her head. “Quite sad, isn’t it? She’s throwing a fit, by the way. She didn’t want you to know. Very private person, I think. We have something in common, apparently. No one ever appreciated my genius, either.” Holtzmann sneered, eyes threateningly furious. Erin shook her head tightly. 

“No. She’s nothing like you. You could never be like her, you could never be that beautiful, or brilliant, or incredible. Never. Not in life, not in death.” And Erin knew she was playing a dangerous game, but behind the ghost she saw Patty and Abby quietly walk through the door, closer and closer to Holtzmann. She needed her to stay distracted, and anger seemed the easiest way. 

“Well, I ca-.” Holtzmann was swiftly interrupted as Patty clamped a hand on her shoulder and whirled her around. Stunned, Holtzmann blinked just before Patty punched her hard, right in the face. Holtzmann crumpled to the ground, and the ghost flew out, immediately getting wrangled into the trap thrown by Abby. As soon as it was secure, Erin rushed over to Holtzmann and checked her vitals. Her eyes were still shut, and she was breathing steadily. There was already a bruise forming across her cheekbone, and Erin whirled around angrily to Patty. 

“Jesus Christ, Patty! Did you have to hit her that hard?” Erin yelled, distraught, Abby also looking a little panicked at Holtzmann’s status. 

“Oh yeah, totally, my bad. I should’ve taken it easier it on her, ya know, because not only is it Holtzy, she had a MURDERER IN HER. No way, man. No way.” Patty shook her head, giving Erin a meaningful look. 

“Well, still- Okay, yeah, never mind. You’re right. That’s a dangerous combo.” Erin sighed as she looked down at Holtzmann, still knocked out cold. She resisted the urge to gently run her hand across the other woman’s bruised face, instead settling just to rest it lightly on her arm. She shook it lightly, trying to rouse Holtzmann, but the scientist remained motionless. “Shit. Holtz, wake up. Holtz!” Erin shook her a little harder, and Holtzmann wearily opened her eyes. She blinked slowly, and her eyes remained partially shut. “Hey! Holtzmann! Stay with us. Come on, Holtz.” Erin tried to encourage her, but Holtz seemed unable to keep her eyes open. “Shit. We gotta carry her.” Erin put an arm across Holtzmann’s shoulder, hoisting her up to stand, and Holtzmann’s head rolled around, her eyes opening slightly. 

“Hmm… What’s- What’s goin on?” Holtzmann was slurring a little, and Erin’s heart skipped at the sound of her voice. 

“Hey! Hey! You’re okay, you just- I’ll tell you later, alright? I just need you to help me out. Can you do that? I just need you to walk to Ecto 1, okay?” Holtzmann moaned, but gave a little nod, and got her feet underneath her. Erin held on tightly as she helped Holtzmann through the doorway, stumbling slightly towards the elevator. Abby and Patty stayed close, ready to catch her if she fell. Half-dragging Holtzmann, Erin entered the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor. Holtzmann opened her eyes again, and groaned at the sight of the elevator, before shutting her eyes tightly. 

“Shh, shh, I know. It’ll be over in a second, Holtz.” Erin tried to reassure her, and Holtzmann leaned heavier onto her side, to the point where Erin almost completely dragged her out of the elevator. They approached the hearse, and Erin attempted to remove Holtzmann’s pack. “Come on, Holtzmann. Help me.” Holtzmann moved her arms slightly, still mostly out of it, and Patty managed to slide the pack off. With Abby’s help, they managed to get Holtzmann settled into the passenger seat. 

“Holtz, you okay?” Erin leaned down, trying to get Holtzmann’s attention. Holtzmann gazed blearily up towards her, and gave her a little nod. Erin couldn’t take it anymore, so she leaned down and kissed Holtzmann’s forehead softly, causing the other woman to give a soft little hum. Erin smiled and turned around to see Abby and Patty watching her silently, gauging the situation, before both giving her secretive smiles and turning away. They knew, Erin thought. They knew. 

Back at the firehouse, the team had managed to get Holtzmann to the couch on the first floor, struggling a bit when Holtzmann fell back into complete unconsciousness. Erin sat in a chair opposite the couch, watching Holtzmann shuffle around in her sleep, muttering meaningless words. Erin smiled, softly, as Holtzmann hummed quietly, a habit she seemed to have while unconscious. Erin found it very endearing, and mildly frustrating as well, because at this point, she knew that she was deep into the vortex of Holtzmann. She started to nod off, her last thoughts of Holtzmann’s hums, quiet and soothing in the back of her mind. 

She awoke what felt like hours later, slowly opening her eyes to see an empty couch, Holtzmann apparently gone. Erin stood up, stretching, and turned to see Holtzmann at one of the workbenches, soldering some strange piece of metal. She looked tired, a little sad, and some other unknown emotion that Erin couldn’t quite put her finger on. Erin slowly walked up, trying not to startle her, and Holtzmann set down the torch with a clang next to some other bits of metal. 

“Hey, Holtz, how do you feel?” Erin asked gently, knowing that the probability of Holtzmann giving an honest answer was close to nothing. Holtzmann swallowed, visibly, and smudged a line of grease on her face when she wiped it, wincing when she accidentally ran her hand along the bruise. “Careful. Patty… Well, Patty hit you pretty hard. Sorry about that. Do you… Do you-.” Erin struggled with her next question, unsure if she wanted an answer. 

“Remember anything? Yes. I do. Everything.” Holtzmann answered abruptly, eyes darting away, fingers brushing against the metal in front of her. 

“Holtz, we don’t have to talk about this. Honestly.” Erin tried to be reassuring, tried to give Holtzmann an out, because she figured she wanted one. But Holtzmann surprised her, instead clicking her tongue, and blinking hard, several times. It was a sign that she was about to say something important, and meaningful, and so Erin gave her a few moments to gather her courage. Holtzmann took a deep breath, then furiously launched herself into her next words. 

“I believe in science, I believe that it can answer any question the human mind can pose, it is the solution to any problem imaginable. Science can sate the curiosity for any possible inquiry, but it cannot answer a question I have been wondering for as long as I have been able to, it cannot answer if a person is good or bad. We have no equation for morality, two plus two is four but there is no quantifiable variable I can use for evil or good. Except-.” Holtzmann pushes her glasses up her nose, lets out a low hum, runs her fingers through her hair, and Erin feels something in her chest; warm, growling, pinched, at the sight of her floundering. “Except that you are good. Because you are kind. You care. You notice. And the equation of morality is unsolvable, and impossible, and all my life I have only been able to determine goodness through the scientific method; hypothesize, experiment, determine. And it is painful and long and uncomfortable and you are good and I cannot explain it.” Holtzmann lets out a noise somewhere between a huff and a groan, lowers her eyes, picks up a wrench just so she has an excuse for wringing her hands. 

Erin says nothing, mouth on the border of gaping, scrambling to find a way to respond to the vast amount of unusual emotion that Holtzmann had let loose. Finally, she settles on saying nothing at all, just moves closer to Holtzmann, to this woman who feels love so deeply that it contradicts her due process of thinking. Holtzmann tenses, watches Erin slowly through the corner of her eye, and her hand twitches atop the wrench when Erin sets her palm on it. Erin gives her hand a squeeze, and Holtzmann relaxes slightly, some of the tension easing at the gesture. Erin takes a deep breath before speaking, gathering her thoughts from the whirlwind in her mind. 

“I think the point of morality is that it can it only be determined through the scientific method. We make an assumption about someone, about who they are fundamentally, and then we experience the relationship with them through our hypothesis. In order to determine if they are who we believed they are, we have to allow ourselves to be hurt, we have to be open to the idea of potential suffering. But if it’s not pain, it’s love, and all the experimenting and theorizing and questioning makes it all worth the conclusion.” Holtzmann stills at this, her hand motionless underneath Erin’s, and suddenly Erin fears that she said the wrong thing, that she hurt Holtzmann in some unrecognizable way. But then Holtzmann turns around and stares Erin in her eyes; searching, pondering, trying to pluck out the sincerity of her statement. She squints, latching on to some hidden emotion in Erin’s startled gaze, and her next words come rushing out, like letting out a breath you’ve been holding in for minutes, for years, for your entire life.

“Will you hurt me, Erin?” 

And Erin smiles, because she can finally give Holtzmann a solution to one of her intangible equations. 

“Never.”

And when they kiss, it feels like maybe there’s a reason that love and kindness are unquantifiable, that those numbers and variables are vacant on purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there we are, kids. my first fanfic, finished. fun fact: I wrote the "i believe in science" bit first, before anything else. 
> 
> anyway! publish ur fic. add to the chaos that is holtzbert. not even kidding, i've been refreshing the tag like every ten minutes to check if there's anything. c'mon kids. if i could do it, u can do it. 
> 
> also, sorry about any errors, i'm a teensy dyslexic so sometimes i miss things that may seem obvious, like words that are similar or similar sounds/beginnings. my b.


End file.
